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<Rhys> ::the door is quietly unlocked from the inside, but not opened. Although no light shows from under the door, two candles burn on the bartop. The hearth lies dark and cold, although in the Marsember summer that is not unusual. Rhys returns behind the bar.:: Hall's open. * Kevil strolls down the street past the Hall and waits for a patrol to get well beyond him before he doubles back and ducks down the alley to the building's entrance. He slips quietly through the door, and offers Rhys a bow in greeting. "Master Rhys, good evening to you." <Rhys> Good evening, Master Bard. What will it be tonight? <Kevil> Meade, if you would be so kind. ::he crosses to the bar and sits, toying with a chain around his throat that hangs down into his shirt:: Tell me - is this place well-protected from scrying? * Adam does his best to slip through the door, hastily closing the door behind his large frame. "Good evening Rhys, Kevil. How are the two of you?" <Rhys> As well as can be expected, I suppose. What can I get you? * Glossaria quietly descends the stairs, a light wrap covering her pale green gown. The fingers of her right hand are spotted with ink, and a quill is stuck behind her ear. * Aeryn steps out of a deep shadow in the alley and listens intently. Stepping up to the door, he slips through quickly. "Good evening." <Kevil> ::nods to Adam:: <Adam> Meade please Rhys. ::Sits at the bar:: * Kevil smiles warmly at Glossaria. "How fare your studies, bright angel?" * Aeryn removes his cloak and hangs it neatly over the back of a chair before joining the others at the bar. <Rhys> ::to Kevil, while he pours his meade:: Reasonably well, yes. The more we discuss it, the tighter its definitions and boundaries become, so I prefer to leave it vague. Suffice it to say that you may speak freely here. * Rhys pours Adam some meade. "Glossaria, Aeryn, good evening. Would you like anything?" <Kevil> ::grins:: Good. Thank you. ::he picks up his mug and drinks deeply before setting it down with a sigh:: <Aeryn> The house meade for me, thank you. * Rhys pours Aeryn a mug of meade. * Adam drinks from his mug, "Good evening Glossaria, Aeryn." <Aeryn> ::nods in return:: * Summer heads down to the bar and slips onto a stool. * Glossaria crosses to the bar and sits on a stool. "Well enough, Master Kevil. Still working on a reasonable facsimile... Might I have some tea, Master Rhys? Oolong, hot?" * Aeryn nods to Summer. * Orlann slips in. His clothes, new just before the invasion, hang loosely on him as if he's not been eating well. * Kevil gives Summer a faint smile. "Your discovery has been expanded upon." * Summer looks to Kevil. "Oh?" <Rhys> In a moment, Glossaria. ::he takes a cup and saucer off the racks and sets the saucer on the bar, then fills the cup with hot water and puts it on the saucer:: Let me just find the tea, now... ::he begins poking around under the bar:: <Kevil> ::nods to Summer, then looks around as Orlann enters. He beckons him toward the bar.:: Corporal, please, come and join us. I have news you need to hear. <Rhys> ::coming up holding a small gauze packet:: Ah, Corporal. It's been a while. Care for anything? * Summer glances to Aeryn and smiles to him just a bit. * Aeryn takes a drink of meade, attention more on Kevil. * Orlann nods to Rhys. "Beer, iffen you don't mind." He sits tiredly in a stool near Kevil's. * Rhys puts the teabag in Glossaria's tea, sets a spoon in the saucer and slides it over. "If you want anything for it, just say so." <Rhys> ::gets a mug of dark beer for Orlann:: * Glossaria shakes her head, pulling the cup towards her by its saucer. "Thank you, Master Rhys, this is sufficient." <Kevil> ::to Orlann:: I apologize for bringing you here, when I know how much you require your rest, but I thought - and Master Rhys confirms - that this is a place wherein we might speak freely. * Glossaria dunks her teabag up and down, chin in hand, and listens to Kevil. * Orlann raises one eyebrow. "Ain't no bother... I ain't sleeping much no way. All this does is put off the moment I begin not sleeping." * Adam looks at Kevil with interest. <Kevil> ::nods sympathetically:: I apologize also for my news. You will not like to hear it, but you must. ::he holds up a hand:: I assure you, first and foremost, it does not touch upon your lady, d'va? She is as well as can be hoped, or was at my last report. <Aeryn> ::muttered:: Aye, and likely better than most. * Summer leans close and listens intently. * Rhys mops up some dropped wax from the candles. * Orlann holds up one hand to silence Kevil for a moment. When that remarkable event actually occurs, he tilts his mug back and drains it. * Orlann pushes the mug back towards Rhys. "Care to refill that, iffen you can? I think I'll be needin' it." <Rhys> I think we still have enough stock I can do that for you, yes. ::he refills Orlann's mug:: <Orlann> Thank you kindly. ::turns his attention to Kevil:: So, tell me, then? * Glossaria takes out the tea bag, squeezing it against her spoon to eke the last bits of tea from it. She sniffs it curiously before setting it in the saucer. * Kevil draws a breath and meets Orlann's eyes. "I have... not *proof*, I fear, but the word of one I trust, that the orc mages are... using you. Spying through your eyes, and hearing through your ears. I fear they used this connection to gain intelligence of the city and the Purple Dragons, even before they arrived, and they are still using it." * Summer nods and murmurs "That makes sense" * Aeryn inhales sharply, eyes going wide. * Rhys raises an eyebrow at Kevil. <Orlann> ::sharply, pushing his mug away from him and standing:: You accuse me? * Adam drains his mug, "I could use a refill too Rhys." * Glossaria draws in a quick breath and stills, eyes losing focus slightly as she stares into her teacup. * Summer blinks at Orlann <Aeryn> ::softly to Summer:: Makes sense? <Kevil> ::holds up both hands placatingly:: No, I do not. I believe they use you unawares, my friend. Please, sit... * Rhys refills Adam's mug. * Summer nods to Aeryn. "I did not hear Orlann, only Diya and Kevil." * Aeryn likewise drains his mug. "Aye, and me as well, if you would." <Orlann> ::scowling:: How? * Glossaria frowns a little, drawing her notebook from her pocket and quickly flipping to a clean page, plucking the pen from behind her ear and jotting notes with a small frown. <Kevil> ::shakes his head:: That, I do not entirely know. Some variant of scrying spell, of course... I can think of several possibilities... The simplest might be that they planted some item on you, or in you, when they chased you from your home, that they now use as a focus. * Orlann shudders, one hand going to his hip. "But... then you ain't got a choice, do you?" <Rhys> Everyone, stand quiet. No harm comes to anyone here tonight. * Adam nods in silent agreement with Rhys. <Aeryn> ::softly to Rhys:: Thank you for that assurance, good master Rhys. <Kevil> ::calmly:: Of course I have a choice, my friend. We need do no more than refuse to speak our plans where you may hear or see, except in this place, that you not be used against us. <Kevil> I have no intention of attempting to harm you, Corporal. On the Bright Lady's eyes, I swear it. <Glossaria> ::muttering to herself:: Perhaps... some variant of clairvoyance and clairaudience... but... linked to an *individual*... as a focus? nonono... ::raising her voice a little:: Master Kevil... you said, seeing *through* his eyes? Not merely seeing around him? Were you being precise in your language, or using poetic euphemism? <Orlann> ::shakes his head, looking grey and sick:: It be my fault, then... I put you in danger, by coming here. I put *her* in danger... ::his face sinks into his hands:: <Summer> You did not know, Orlann. * Aeryn nods mutely, seconding that. <Kevil> ::softly:: No fault, no blame. You were used. Now that we know - and for so long as they do not know we know - it makes you a powerful weapon to turn against them. <Kevil> ::to Glossaria:: My information is at least twice diluted, bright angel, but it is my understanding that the phrase was meant literally - that they saw precisely through his eyes. <Adam> Hmm... ::drinks his meade:: <Orlann> ::dully:: It don't matter... it tells all. I knew the rotation of the Dragons, knew that we concentrated on the walls... ::he lifts his eyes to look at Kevil:: Knew you were out, that night you were beat. * Aeryn pushes his empty mug forward slightly, eyes on the bartop. "Master Rhys, might I..." <Summer> Well now that we know we must use this to our advantage, yes? * Orlann shifts his gaze to Summer. "And you, I knew what you planned... they knew you was comin'." <Kevil> ::nods soberly, meeting Orlann's eyes:: I said it would not be news you would thank me for. The blame yet belongs to *them*, d'va? <Rhys> Of course, Aeryn. :: he refills his mug:: <Glossaria> Hmm... tertiary source... hearsay. Drat. ::scowling a little, her tiny, precise handwriting flowing over to the second page, fitting around quickly-sketched diagrams:: <Aeryn> Thank you. ::he drinks deeply:: The orcs appear to be quite adept at using our own abilities against us. First the hostages, and now... <Kevil> ::looks over at Gloss again:: Bright angel... You once found a... tag, on Loria, cunningly hidden. That anchored a different spell, but... could you perform a similar search for the Corporal? It might aid us to know whether the spell could be broken from this end, or if we must fight the mages themselves to free him of them. * Summer looks to Kevil. "Why couldn't we use this to our advantage? Make them think we are places we are not, and doing things we are not to place them where we want them to be?" <Kevil> Oh, I intend to use this, if at all possible. But the time will come when we *must* break the spell, and before that, we must know where it is. <Summer> ::nods:: Oh * Adam sips his drink, "Good thought that." <Aeryn> Aye, we can indeed, for the first few times at the very least. After enough false leads, they will begin to suspect. At least, I would. I cannot speak with certainty on how an orc would think. <Aeryn> ::considers:: Nor do I really want to, for that matter. <Glossaria> ::cocks her head, considering:: Perhaps... give me a moment. ::blinks thoughtfully and flips back towards the beginning of the book, running her finger down a page and holding it to a place as she draws a blank bit of paper from a pouch at her belt and writes quickly on it:: * Orlann returns to cradling his head in his hands. <Kevil> ::nods to Aeryn:: We must choose what misinformation to give carefully. <Adam> Given everything we've seen so far I think we can assume that those making decisions are at least as cunning as we are. <Orlann> ::muffled by his hands:: What if it ain't just what I see? What if they know what you've said, once I walk out the door? <Kevil> ::firmly:: We have said enough in this place, in your presence, for them to arrest and hang us all for conspiracy, already. I do not think that is likely. * Summer nods * Aeryn nods thoughtfully. "Aye." <Kevil> If you truly fear that possibility, though, Master Rhys may yet have another room upstairs in which you could sleep. ::softly:: But I think it would be a waste to alert them to our knowledge by having you fall out of touch for so long a period. <Glossaria> Hm... ::chews her lip:: Master Rhys, might you have anything like two rounded pieces of glass? <Kevil> ::touches the chain at his throat:: In any case, I am protected. My informant saw you and Diya speaking - described the conversation, in which I clearly recall participating - and yet they were surprised to hear I knew of you. <Rhys> Full hemispheres, or simply rounded? <Glossaria> Flat panes... size is immaterial, although about so big is most convenient. ::making a round of her fingers, thumbs overlapping:: <Rhys> Hmmm... a moment, if you'll be so kind. ::he heads back into the kitchen:: * Kevil leans close to Orlann, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It is a terrible thing to learn, that one has been played for a pawn - especially when one was unaware of the game. I do not envy you. But you have now the potential to help undo the damage. You give us *hope*." * Orlann shakes his head. "I ain't... I don't..." His voice is low, muffled and despairing. * Glossaria nods absently, searching through another pouch before coming up with a small pair of silver tweezers. * Summer watches Gloss silently. <Kevil> ::nods and squeezes Orlann's shoulder before releasing him and sitting back to drink his meade in silence:: * Aeryn takes another sip of meade, watching the others silently. <Rhys> ::there is the sound of breaking glass, a long pause, and Rhys comes out of the back room holding two small damp glass discs. He dries them off with the bar rag before handing them to Glossaria:: They're not the cleanest, but they're better than they were. <Glossaria> ::smiles, taking the discs, holding them up to the light, and inspecting them closely. She wipes one carefully against her skirts, and nods.:: These will suffice, thank you. ::she glances at the huddled Orlann out of the corner of her eye and turns her back to him slightly as she crumples the bit of paper and slips it between her lips, swallowing it.:: <Glossaria> ::opening her mouth, and suddenly glancing at Rhys with a faint blush:: Master Rhys, with your permission? <Rhys> Go right ahead, dear. * Glossaria nods and holds the two rounds of glass up in front of her eyes, speaking the words of her spell. A twisted chain of golden, glowing words spill from her lips, spiraling up to curl around the two makeshift lenses. The bits of glass shine translucent gold and continue to hang in the air before her face as she releases them, giving the suggestion of what Gloss would look like wearing glasses. * Aeryn watches with interest. * Glossaria approaches Orlann, peering at him carefully. "Don't move without my direction, please, Corporal." * Glossaria holds the silver tweezers in her palm and speaks again, the golden words wrapping around them this time. She watches, and picks them up after a moment. * Orlann does not move, but it is difficult to tell if he is following Gloss's directions, or just too numbed with guilt to stir. * Glossaria bends over him, the magical lenses glowing like two little moons as she looks him over carefully. * Glossaria frowns slightly, crouching down to inspect the Corporal's feet, slowly rising as she examines him inch by inch. <Glossaria> Hm. Curious. * Summer grins as she watches Gloss. * Kevil obviously bites back a demand for information and swallows it with the last of his meade. <Rhys> Refills, anyone? * Glossaria gets to her feet again, very carefully picking up one of Orlann's braids and studying it minutely. "Hm. Master Rhys, have you a needle or pin, please?" * Aeryn drains his mug. "No, thank you." * Rhys pokes around under the bar, and pulls a needle and a spool of black thread out. "Here you are, Glossaria." * Adam takes another drink, "I'm fine Rhys." <Glossaria> Thank you. ::pulling the needle free of the spool, she whispers over it as she did over the tweezers, making it shine gold:: Master Orlann, your hand, please, and permission to draw a few drops of blood? * Orlann holds out his hand. His fingers are trembling slightly. <Kevil> ::looks at Glossaria, surprised. Once again, he chokes back a question or comment, and slides his mug across the bar to Rhys:: Please. * Rhys refills Kevil's mug. <Kevil> Thank you. ::he watches Glossaria and Orlann closely as he drinks:: * Glossaria takes his hand in hers, holding it gently but firmly. She draws her teacup closer, setting it to one side and moving Orlann's hand over the saucer as she quickly pricks his ring finger and squeezes a few drops of blood onto the saucer. * Glossaria releases his hand with an absent pat and turns her attention to the drops of blood, bending over the dish to stare at them fixedly. * Orlann winces slightly, then moodily stares at the bartop. * Glossaria squints, turning the saucer slightly and prodding a drop with her glowing needle. "Hm." <Glossaria> *Very* curious. I do wonder how they managed it... ::she blinks and straightens, and the lenses disappear. Her tweezers turn into a mangled bit of silver wire. The needle turns black, but is otherwise unharmed. Gloss raises her eyebrows at it, shrugs, and puts it back in the spool:: <Kevil> ::giving up on patience:: What did you discover? <Glossaria> Hm? Oh! ::blinking at Kevil:: He most definitely contains a spell focus. However, I don't believe I could remove it without significantly endangering his life. I believe the focus is in his blood. * Orlann blinks and looks over at Gloss. <Glossaria> ::glancing at Orlann:: You're also somewhat malnourished, Corporal. Eat something. * Aeryn swallows. "Uh...Rhys? I do believe I may indeed have another..." He pushes his mug forward slightly. * Adam mutters something that sounds like it contains Michelle's name. * Rhys refills Aeryn's mug. <Kevil> ::grimaces:: No, that would take a higher power than we have... ::sighs:: So if we must break it, we must indeed confront the mages. * Orlann rubs his arms, shuddering. "How in the nine hells..." <Kevil> ::glances at Orlann:: You said they had shot you several times, before you escaped them. Perhaps there was some... magical poison, of sorts, on the arrowheads. <Glossaria> ::cocks her head:: I could be mistaken. There were definitely signs of focus in the sample I collected. ::nods to the saucer:: They may have instead planted the focus in his heart, and his blood has merely become contaminated with it. ::blinking thoughtfully:: Likewise his liver... without close examination of his internal organs, I couldn't be sure. * Orlann shudders again. "She shoulda just let me be... " <Glossaria> ::nodding:: Using a liquid as focus is slightly more difficult, but eminently possible. Loria's was ink, after all. <Kevil> ::almost angrily:: One does not ask a healer to let a man die when she might help him, Corporal. Lay your fault with the *orcs*. With *Woundwort*, or with the dragon. <Aeryn> ::nods:: Aye, I do not believe a true healer could. Even with knowledge of something of this nature beforehand. <Orlann> ::groans:: <Glossaria> The focus is largely inert, Corporal. It could not be detected with the naked eye... in fact, even to the magical eye, it was not immediately apparent. <Glossaria> ::smiling a little:: One could say you are even less to blame than a dog would be for having fleas. ::frowns slightly, considering the analogy:: Magical, invisible, noncorporeal ticks... * Adam shakes his head and takes a deep drink. <Glossaria> ::shakes her head:: Ah, well. An imperfect analogy. Master Kevil is right; the orcs are to blame for this. <Orlann> ::rubs at his face with both hands:: I... <Kevil> ::his voice low and broken:: I am sorry, Corporal. Truly, I am. If there were some way I might have lightened the burden... ::he sighs:: By all rights, I should allow you time for your grief and anger, waiting without interference as a friend must do. But I am running out of time. <Kevil> My wife is deathly ill, and if she dies, so must my daughters. The sickness is spreading, and if we do not act soon, then every helpless hostage within those gates may die. I... I can *not* step away now, when we are so close. * Aeryn nods grimly, taking a deep drink of his meade. <Orlann> ::looks up at Kevil, his eyes red-rimmed:: Iffen you're wrong, they'll target your wife specific, next. You know that, don't you? <Kevil> ::closes his eyes in pain and nods:: I know. And yet... If I do not act, she dies anyhow. I *must* try. ::he looks at Orlann desperately:: I *must*. <Orlann> ::almost desperately:: How c'n you... how c'n you let me take their lives in my hands? <Glossaria> ::cocking her head:: Corporal Orlann, had you visited the naval drydocks frequently, before the orcs attacked? Were you stationed there? <Aeryn> ::to Orlann:: Do we have another choice? * Summer sighs softly and sits back some. * Kevil takes a very long drink of his meade, and gives Orlann a faint smile somewhat the worse for wear. "Do you imagine Loria would ever forgive me, if I chose any other path?" <Rhys> Trust, Corporal. They trust the man you are. Now, everyone. Though I do not wish to, I must say, last call. * Glossaria sighs a little and sips her lukewarm tea. * Aeryn finishes his meade, and puts the mug back down on the bartop. <Aeryn> Thanks all the same, but no. * Adam nods and drains his mug, "We have to make this work, for everyone's sake." * Summer nods * Orlann sighs. "Whatever help I c'n give you, I will, but... I ain't... " He shakes his head, unable to vocalize his thoughts. <Aeryn> ::nods:: Aye. <Glossaria> ::chewing her lip:: Corporal, is there anywhere in this city you've *not* gone, as yet? <Orlann> Not s'much, really, ma'am. The homeguard... we rotated watches... * Kevil pushes away the last few swallows of his meade, then stands and stretches before looking back at Orlann. "Will you stay here tonight, where it is safe?" He glances up at the ceiling and - by implication - the Hall's protective wardings. "Or will you return to the apartment with me?" <Orlann> ::shakes his head:: I'll return with you. ::he looks absolutely miserable:: They might wonder, iffen I didn't. * Summer glances around and then slips quietly from her stool and back to her room <Kevil> Yes. ::softly:: You are a brave man, Corporal. I salute your strength. ::he takes a breath and touches the chain at his neck.:: Come, then. Let us go. * Adam waves wearily, "Goodnight everyone." * Aeryn stands as well. "Aye, I should return as well. Stay safe." He nods to everyone. * Glossaria glances from Orlann to Rhys, pulling the saucer close to her again. "Would it be alright if I kept this for a little while? I'd like to make some tests..." <Rhys> It's fine with me. Just bring it down to be washed up when you're finished. * Aeryn dons his cloak and opens the door just enough to leave. * Adam gives Aeryn a few moments lead before heading out the door himself. * Kevil bows to Rhys, then kisses Glossaria's forehead. "Thank you, bright angel." He gives her a smile, then turns toward the door. <Rhys> Good night, everyone. Sleep sweet. * Orlann stands and follows Kevil, his eyes dark with horror. <Glossaria> ::smiles:: Thank you for recalling it, Master Kevil. I would not have through of it. * Glossaria closes up her notebook and sticks her pen back behind her ear. "Thank you, Master Rhys." <Rhys> Most welcome, Glossaria. Good night to you. * Rhys blows out one of the two candles. * Glossaria carries the plate carefully before her as she mounts the steps, calling down softly from the landing. "Goodnight!" * Glossaria disappears down the hall. * Rhys goes to the door and locks it. He then collects glasses and mugs and heads back into the kitchen, and his washerly duties. |
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